Fanning Fumes
by Fortune Maiden
Summary: What do you do when you are hiding something that could kill you? (Reworked)


**Fanning Fumes**

_What do you do when you are hiding something that could kill you?_

* * *

The dizziness set in unexpectedly. I was just sitting in the barracks in the middle of a story when it struck and I immediately stopped talking, drawing in everyone's attention. For a moment, I was afraid that something had shown on my face (I'm a terrible actor out of German uniform after all), and then I hoped relief hadn't shown when Newkirk beckoned, "Well go on Andrew, what happened next?" I just put on my best smile and say I was making sure they were listening before going on. A perfectly natural thing for me to say, I guess. No one suspects a thing. The dizziness still lingers, but now I can safely ignore it.

I know what this is. I've known since I first started making explosives in the lab. Back then, I thought it was a one time thing, since our guys failed to destroy the bridge, and Colonel Hogan really wanted it out of the way. And I enjoyed it despite the side effects (one of which was nearly blowing myself up, funnily enough). When blowing stuff up became part of the routine, I had some worries. But then, I also had my duty and, well, nothing could beat the pride and satisfaction of being the only one who could do what you do. And I _liked_ building bombs, even though I think it made the others a bit wary of me.

Even though it meant constant exposure to toxic fumes.

It wasn't anyone's fault. Colonel Hogan put together the best lab he could under the circumstances, and it really was better than anything I could have asked for. I really like my lab and am quite happy to spend hours down in it doing my part to help win the war. And comsidering we hardly got any privacy around here, it felt nice to have my own room, for once. But even I noticed it right away. I didn't say anything then because it wasn't important (like I said, I thought it was a one-time deal), and when it did become important, there were too many other things going on and I didn't really want to trouble anyone else with it.

The lab had no fume hood.

I handled it the way I handled everything else: I learned to live with it. Like any great scientist, I used trial and error to learn what I had to do to minimize exposure. I learned how to put together my bombs as fast as possible (something that the others praised me for, which was really nice). I learned how long I could handle working with certain chemicals before it became too hard to breathe. I learned how to keep any nausea at bay (though I still kept a bucket around just in case, and took care not to work with noxious fumes around meal times). I blamed smoking if the guys caught me coughing, even went so far as to cut back to claim I was making a serious effort about quitting (Mom would be really proud. She was furious when I started). I even took the precaution of insisting that no one be in the nearby tunnels when I was working, which, given my record of accidents involving tunnel collapses, was a request that was practically insisted (though in truth when I made it, I hadn't actually remembered that part (Newkirk was the one who pointed it out). I just didn't want anyone seeing me pale and wheezing when the fumes came to be too much).

But the dizziness is unavoidable. Everything else is solved by taking a quick break but the headaches and dizziness have an annoying tendency to strike at any moment, though by now I'm really good at hiding it. My natural clumsiness serves as a great cover-up and my tendency to trail off in the middle of sentences hasn't bothered anyone yet. It's only that first moment, when the headache sets in that always worries me. That's when I'm always scared I'll slip up somehow and some sort of pain or disorientation will show on my face. Afterwards I just get some fresh air (easy to get when surrounded by woods, even in a prison camp) and it all clears up fairly quickly.

I guess I'm just really lucky the first moment never occurred when I was in character.

But, you know, I think it's slowly getting worse. The headaches are more frequent now and they're lasting longer than I would like (not that I like them at all). The pain isn't bad or anything, so it's not hard to keep ignoring it as usual. But it's time for a mission and I need to go out to set my bombs on another bridge. Everything is ready. Colonel Hogan and Newkirk are coming with and they trust my bombs will do the trick. I know they will, and I don't want to sit back and miss the explosion.

Even though the dizziness from that afternoon is still bugging me.

The explosion is a beauty, of course. The bridge never stood a chance. I really can't help but excitedly point out all of the little details like the color of the flames and the size, even though my throat is burning now and Newkirk is pointedly reminding me to keep my voice low. Colonel Hogan just compliments a job well done and nudges me in the direction of camp.

I follow them as best as I could under the circumstances, when suddenly there are at least six of them and I'm not sure which pair is real. I'm real dizzy now, my head feels like it'll crack open and it really hurts to breath. Suddenly I'm not sure I can pretend everything is alright any longer. The Colonel and Newkirk will notice this (and I'm sure they've noticed by now that I've stopped following them) and they won't accept some sort of half-roasted story. But that's, of course, if they get to me before the Germans do 'cause, in this haze, I'm not even sure the figures approaching me from every direction are friend or foe. My vision swims and the world fades to darkness.

* * *

I'm not dead. Not this time.

I wake up later back at the camp, with no headache or breathing difficulties and a quick glance around reveals I'm in the Colonel's room. The guys must have carried me here. There's a damp cloth on my forehead. I should be glad that the figures I saw were my friends, but I'm not. I know I have a lot to explain.

Kinch is the one who finds me awake first, and he quickly alerts the Colonel who looks real angry. He demands to know what happened, and for a moment I wonder if I should just tell him the truth. There's a certain comfort in the truth. If I tell the Colonel about my dizziness and headaches, I won't have to hide them anymore. I'm real scared that this is the beginning of something bad and that it won't be the last time I faint and I really don't to be the one to put the operation in jeopardy (not that I want the operation to be put in jeopardy at all, by anyone, ever). But I know there's no way to tell the truth and continue making bombs and blowing up German bridges, factories and trains. And what if the Colonel blames himself for this, even though it's my fault for not saying anything (though if he realizes that, I don't want to be yelled at for it either)? But the worst thing is, I know I can't be part of the team if I talk (there are plenty of others who can take care of impersonations in my place).

I want to remain a member of the team.

"I guess the heat got to me, sir," I say sheepishly, not meeting his eyes in shame. I'm lucky it was a hot night. "It won't happen again."

"It better not," Colonel Hogan replies, "Don't ever scare me like that again. That's an order." I smile, because he's not really angry, just concerned, and because he believes me (me, who can't lie to save my skin!). I guess it's because the Colonel trusts us all to come to him if we have any real issues, so he won't waste his time grilling us about a problem we _might _be having, which only makes me feel like I'm betraying his trust by continuing my act. He tells me that they told Schultz I have a fever and that Klink excused me from roll call for the day. (I kinda wish I had been awake for that, because Schultzie and Klink always have such funny reactions when they think someone's sick, but then again, being awake kinda defeats the purpose of being unconscious in the first place).

The Colonel orders me to take it easy, just in case, even though I insist I'm alright now (and I am). The Colonel then leaves, and I'm suddenly aware of this look Kinch is giving me, and I know he knows I'm lying.

But then LeBeau and Newkirk enter with the same questions and anger. I give them the same story I gave the Colonel, and fortunately, they accept it just as easily. LeBeau tries to coddle me with chicken soup (he made some as part of our cover story) and Newkirk gives me a longer, angrier version of the Colonel's speech. I guess he was the one who carried me back to the Stalag, so I apologize and thank him for it, which apparently makes him uncomfortable since he looks away and mutters, "Just eat the bloody soup."

LeBeau is quick to reveal that Newkirk spent the entire night at my side pacing, which Newkirk vehemently denies, which then leads to one of their good-natured arguments. I want to join in but I feel real guilty about worrying them and I can't shake off Kinch's accusing stare. I'm positive he knows the truth and he'll tell the Colonel. I don't blame him for that; I'd do the same in his place, and I would do it even I had just a small hunch and no proof. (And then I realize that Kinch might have been exposed to any lingering fumes too, with all the time spent underground at the radio, and that makes me feel worse than the fumes ever will.)

Kinch finally breaks up the argument and convinces them that I need to rest (even though I feel really good now and would rather they stay in order to avoid the impending interrogation) and they leave, promising to check up on me later. And so, I'm left alone with Kinch, who has never made me nervous before, but now I can barely meet his eyes and he knows it. He pulls up a chair beside me and I know what's coming.

"Andrew, are you sure you're alright?" his voice is soft but his eyes mean business. He is watching my every movement, ready to pounce at any hesitation or involuntary twitch. It reminds me of the way the Germans look when they interrogate us (or when we interrogate them), but being watched like this by a friend is worse than any trick the Germans can pull.

But Kinch forgets how good an actor I can be sometimes. I forget it too, at least until self-preservation kicks in. And boy, has it kicked in now.

"Sure, don't worry about me," I begin in the same tone I use when I'm about to tell a story, "I mean, it was a really hot night and then there was that explosion, and you know how much extra heat that brings. You know back home, we had really hot summers and there was this one time—

"Alright, alright I get it," he cuts me off right where I knew he would. "I'm sorry if I sound suspicious, but you had us really worried. You've been out for nearly ten hours." I just nod guiltily, taking note of the time, as he continues. "You looked like you were having trouble breathing for a while, and Newkirk told us just before you fainted you were rubbing your temples as if you had a nasty headache." I don't miss the emphasis he places on "headache" so I respond by staring quizzically at him. Every method I've used against the Germans is suddenly fresh on my mind. Every method the Colonel used is even fresher.

"You didn't have a headache before you left the camp, did you?" that accusing tone is back and I can't help but get defensive (another trick I learned from Colonel Hogan).

"Geez Kinch, you sound like I'm on trial or something. You know I'm real bad at guessing games so you should really just tell me what's on your mind." Learn your opponents hand before showing your own. Works for cards and life. Kinch laughs a little at this, but his eyes soften. I hope he doesn't realize I'm just deflecting (or that I would even think of using my acquired deception skills against a concerned friend).

I'm already horrified at how far I'm going to protect my secret.

"I'm sorry Carter, but you know if you're ever not feeling well, you can tell us. The Colonel and Newkirk could have set the charges without you, so if you weren't feeling well last night, you could have asked to stay behind." Relief sets in as I realize what this is really all about. My secret _is_ safe. I can't hide my smile at this.

"Alright Kinch, you caught me," I feign embarrassment and start rambling, "I guess I might have been coming down with something but, well, I didn't want the guys to think I was chickening out of the mission, and well, it was a bridge bombing, and I really wanted to be there for the explosion, so I thought I was fine, I mean, it was just a tiny headache, and I didn't think it was something worth staying back for anyway, so I just didn't say anything. And I was really fine up until we started heading back 'cause, like I said, it was really hot, and that explosion was really loud, so I guess it just made things worse?" I end with a question, to make it sound like I'm just guessing it myself.

Kinch isn't really satisfied, I can tell, but he seems to accept this story more. "And how do you feel now?"

"Right as a raisin," I don't understand why that makes him laugh.

"Rain, Carter." He gets up, "You should still play the sick patient for today though, or the Krauts will get suspicious." When he has one foot out the door though, he turns and says, "And Andrew, you _will_ tell us if the dizziness returns, won't you?" I just smile and nod eagerly, determined not to put my foot in my mouth just when I've won…

…It is only after he has left that I realize I never said anything about ever feeling dizzy.

* * *

**AN: **I hope this is okay. I wasn't sure how to end it, but I thought this way felt the most natural. Out of every unbelievable thing on this show (including the pilot) the one thing that was always bothered me was Carter's chemistry lab. Carter's _underground_ chemistry lab. I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure when working with chemicals you're supposed to wear protective equipment and have a fume hood. It's bad enough that you could see right in the opening that Carter has no safety gear (not even goggles), but considering the lab is underground, I'm highly doubt he has a fume hood either. And the first thing he mixes in his lab is ammonia and bleach ("German Bridge is Falling Down")...and nitroglycerine isn't really something you want to be inhaling either.

**Update 10/20/13**: Edited and reposted. A reader was kind enough to inform me that the original version of this story violated FF's rules so I reworked it into first person. I'm fairly satisfied with the result (if only because it gave me some much needed practice at writing Carter, who I personally consider the hardest character in this series to write) but I've posted the original 2nd person version on my tumblr, if anyone wants to read the original (I use the same username there). I think the original captured the cynical tone I was trying to convey a bit better, but hopefully some of it survived the editing! (Also, if anyone catches any out of place looking "you"s I might have missed, please let me know).


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